In which a five-year-old show consistently lives up to the hype.
For years, we have all been hearing about how The Good Wife is the best show on network television. A back-handed compliment, maybe, but a strong statement nonetheless. But for me, at least, it was never high on my list. Why? Well, it was a procedural - a legal procedural, as well. I watched a lot of legal/crime procedurals in my teens - mainly British ones - and I felt I had seen most of the tricks in this book. Plus, there was no one in the cast I was a huge fan of - I never watched ER, and I only knew Matt Czuchry from his uninspiring role on Gilmore Girls. But then, on a whim, when the mood took me, I gave it a go.
And I discovered that I had been misinformed on several levels. For one, The Good Wife is only half a procedural; at least as important is its compelling character study of Alicia Florrick. It has a very good cast surrounding her and a deep pool of recurring characters who provide the depth that procedurals often lack. On practically any case, either the judge or the opposing attorney is someone we've seen before - a character with their own motivations and quirks, an ongoing part of the show's universe. And lastly, and most significantly, The Good Wife isn't just the best show on network television, it's one of the best shows on television, period.
A lot of characters have been typed about aspects of why this is - the ongoing development of Alicia, the on-point and generally effective topicality, the comparative internet-savviness (accompanied with truly appalling names - ChumHum? Really?). I want to talk about two in particular, in relation to both The Good Wife and television in general - gradual change in character relationships, and fundamental changes in the status quo.
It's probably fair to say that the majority of television - indeed, the majority of fiction - portrays relationships within the framework of "big moments". Characters' feelings towards each other may change gradually, but they culminate in that grand gesture that turns the corner into a new chapter. It's especially prevalent on The CW, especially with the big breakup (The Vampire Diaries, Reign). Reconciliation can be big too - Jaime fights a bear for Brienne (Game of Thrones), and a rift in the main cast is healed by a dramatic, heartfelt gesture (Angel).
The Good Wife has these moments too, plenty in fact. Cary loses the associate's position to Alicia, and storms off to destroy her from the State's Attorney's office. Alicia discovers that Kalinda slept with her husband (before they were friends), and has never felt more betrayed. Much later, Alicia and Cary are thoroughly screwed over by the partners and plot their revenge.
But these big, dramatic relationship changes are often resolved in a rather unorthodox way, without a single defining event but gradually, almost imperceptibly. Little by little the bitterness fades between Cary and Alicia as they realise they still like each other a lot, but you can't pinpoint the moment their friendship is re-established. They don't really do anything huge for each other during the two seasons Cary spends at the SA's office - there are no grand gestures or apologies or admissions of guilt - but by the end of it Alicia is putting in good words for Cary at the firm and celebrating his return.
It works the other way too - the slow burn as Will turns against Diane in season two (and then back again), and also as the ice between Alicia and Kalinda defrosts ever so slowly. Kalinda, for whom outward emotion is a weakness, manages most of her relationships this way, and is often bewildered or hurt when others don't. Eli either wins people around to his borderline amorality, or decides the person is an obstacle and removes them accordingly. Peter, a complex character but not exactly an undemonstrative one, tends to operate in blowups and grand gestures, and that's fine - it fits the way he is, and he is as confused as Kalinda when others don't necessarily take this as sufficient.
Like most procedurals, though, there is a status quo of sorts. Will and Diane are the partners - maybe Will will be suspended for six months, or Diane will be on the outs with the others, but they will always return to this role. Alicia and Cary and Kalinda are friends, and all of them respect and admire Will and Diane. Alicia is constantly torn between what she feels is her duty to Peter and her family and her passion for Will. And the procedural aspect - the week-to-week plot - is a case in which Lockhart Gardner argues one side and tries to represent their clients.
The fifth season, the strongest so far (how few shows can say that!), has utterly destroyed this status quo - but most importantly, it has also, as far as I can see, pretty much burned its bridges as far as a potential return. This is the new normal - Will and Diane at Lockhart Gardner, Cary and Alicia at Florrick Agos, at each other's throats. I don't doubt that this feud will cool down eventually, since the show can't continue forever with the bitter fight to the death it's got going at the moment, but frankly, I don't see how these people will ever be friends again. The best to be hoped for is a kind of restrained cordiality. I mean, how do you forgive someone for plotting behind your back to gut your firm? How do you forgive them for lying to you for months? How do you forgive someone when they use the memory of your happiest night together to try and destroy you? Someone who lies to a judge just to hurt you? You can't.
Nor have I really seen a show absolutely torpedo one of its central relationships. I might be wrong on this - maybe Alicia and Will will come to some sort of understanding - but for me, this has been the end for them. I never really took sides in the Will/Alicia/Peter triangle - in fact I'd prefer Alicia with neither of them, but I could see why she was attracted to them both - but now, I don't think Alicia/Will is a viable possibility, ever. The relationship is simply too damaged to be repaired. This isn't like Alicia and Kalinda's falling out at the end of season two - hugely painful for both of them, but not intentional and resulting in avoidance. It's not like Alicia and Cary - one-sided, kind of unreasonable, resulting in perhaps a bit of extra zeal at Cary's job. This is calculating and vicious - Will is out to destroy Alicia, professionally and personally, and she is fully returning that feeling. With their history, where do they go from here?
So, with Cary and Alicia starting their new firm, The Good Wife is essentially rebooting itself, and boy is it exciting. One of the big reasons so many shows have their strongest seasons early on (seriously, how many shows can you name that had their strongest season after the third?) is that they settle down a bit. Maybe they've told the story they originally intended to, and are sticking around because they still bring in the ratings (Supernatural). Maybe they've burned through so much plot, and so many huge moments, that anything left feels either disappointing or contrived (The Vampire Diaries). Maybe they never really had much of a story to tell to begin with, just a status quo and a bunch of characters that never really changed or grew, and coasted by to begin with on the inherent interest in the premise (Merlin, Heroes).
This is not to say that The Good Wife hasn't had its share of mistakes - most of them, oddly, centred around one of its strongest characters. Kalinda is awesome in so many ways, but she has also been front and centre of practically every bad decision the show has ever made - the weird thing with second investigator Blake Calamar, or the universally despised plotline around her long-lost (and horrible) husband. It's also had its fair share of dud recurring characters, such as those played by Lisa Edelstein and Maura Tierney.
But by and large, The Good Wife is just really, really good, and it's only getting better.
(Other highlights: Diane, who I barely talked about above, being flawless. The magnificently awful David Lee. Elsbeth Tascioni, magical pixie lawyer. Jackie and Veronica, grandmothers from hell. The deepening madness of Wendy Scott-Carr. The ever-growing brood of Patti Nyholm. The wonderful incredulity of Geneva Pine. Cary and Clarke, adorability squared. Delightfully catty take-downs of Aaron Sorkin and Ryan Murphy. A deep, all-encompassing cynicism that is much more palatable than it sounds. And so much more.)